Taekook Oneshots

-115-

꧁༒☬𝓹𝓪𝓼 𝓭𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓾𝔁☬༒꧂

Taehyung POV 

It's been a few months since my last show, I think to myself, wincing when I push down on my stretched out thigh. Maybe nerves are the root of my phantom strain, but even my tights seem a little tighter against my skin. 

The headlines printed since the show announcement glow menacingly in thick black italics, like spilt cartridges of sticky ink staining my focus. 

Legendary Ballet Prince Returns to Stage!  

"Prince Taehyung" - The Reigning Comeback!

I feel sick to my stomach as my leg muscle seizes. I grasp it and bend over, cursing under my soured breath and gently trying to soothe the tensed limb. To make matters worse, the door to the rehearsal room clicks open with a hurry, and a swarm of make-up artists, managers, frenzied costume designers and assistants explode into the room like wasps.

Clumsily, I pile myself into a somewhat standing position, leg still tight like a rubber band. The director of the show swishes in with a cloud of heavy cologne. 

"There he is!" Namjoon exclaims with a solid clap. "The returning star of my show, the king of the stage!" 

"Pleasure being back, sir," I cough, forcing a smile to hide my unprofessionalism. "Although I must say, time has rusted my screws and I may not be as pristine as I used to be."

"Nonsense!" Namjoon chuckles, clamping down a little too hard on my back. "You and Jeon Jungkook will make perfect Nutcracker and Sugarplum Fairy."

Ah. Yes. The new dancer on the ballet scene. I've only heard the name today, to be frank. The latest media frenzy that journalists simply snap up. I've never had the pleasure of meeting this elusive person, but really all that matters to me is that they dance, and dance well.

The door opens again, and I wonder if the walls will snap and the floors will groan with the capacity explosion. 

"Ah, speak of the devil! Jeon Jungkook, the beauty of my masterpiece!"

I blink slowly. 

Jungkook is a man.

A boy, really, slender proportions, porcelain skin, longish charcoal hair swept into a tiny bun, stubborn curtain bangs framing his large doe eyes. His arms are folded behind his back, the skin of his body barely visible under the tight hug of a peach-coloured bodysuit.

I suppose I should have kept my mind open for the possibility of  my partner being male, with Namjoon being such a modern thinking producer in the drag scene. A little... warning would have been nice, I sniff, fearing the weakness of my questioning sexuality. 

"It's an honour to be working with you, sir," Jungkook smiles nervously. "I hope you'll be willing to teach me along the way."

"Please, call me Taehyung, we are of similar age," I chuckle, waving modestly. "And I'm sure you'll do just fine. I hear great things of you."

He nods, and flushes red. I hate to admit it, but he's perfect for the role. 

I quiver at the thought of performing now, fearing that his perfection would upstage me.

Then I watch as he practices his bounds and twirls, face poised like a statuette, I don't think I would mind being upstaged anymore.

-

I'm sweating. I don't remember how hot the stage lights burn, how painful every limb hung sorely. The dances flit by in a flash, and finally the grand duet comes. From under the rose glow, Jungkook appears, and I get a good look at him for the first time of the night.

My breath catches in my throat. 

His arms are glazed with baby pink satin, and his slim torso bears a bodice and tutu the colour of spun sugar. There's glitter in his makeup, and he's glowing. He smiles, and the glow shines even brighter. 

The music starts, and I manage to recall my steps as I catch his hands in mine and begin the dance. He feels warm, exploding with energy as he spins elegantly like a wooden top. He's so still, so well balanced. This isn't a duet anymore, it's a solo and I am all but a prop.

He leaps, and I catch him. He lies against my chest and I lower him gently. The whole time, neither of our smiles leave our faces. The orchestra seems to follow the flow of his curves, his every move, as he commands the stage and leaves everyone breathless and everything angelic with his aura.

The finale comes up, and we wind up for the last lift. In time with the music, I take him in my arms, and bring him into the air. He stays there for a while, basking in light like a real fairy, before the music ends and he falls back into my support, where he crosses his legs and looks up at me, grinning.

My heart thumps, and the applause washes over me like a spell. We're supposed to walk off the stage immediately, but we've already missed our count. Jungkook furrows his brow, trying to signal me to bring us off, but I ignore it and lean in to kiss him.

The audience roars, until the sound is nothing but white noise. Jungkook gasps against my lips, but gradually kisses back. He's soft, delicate, like a petal. Fragile, like if I held him any tighter, he would crack.

Finally, he drags me into the wings, and grasps his hair with a panicked look on his face. 

"What was that for?!" He hisses, half laughing, half scoldingly. 

"It felt right," I whisper back, feeling a little stupid myself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

Jungkook licks his lips and paces the wooden ground, blinking furiously, before looking up at me again and offering a hand for me to shake.

"That was for professional circumstances, right?"

I ignore his gesture, but nod slightly.

"Professional. Sure."

Jungkook inhales sharply, turns beetroot, before spinning around to leave. At the door of his dressing room, I call out his name. He stops.

"You looked beautiful out there," I say. "I've wanted to say that for a long time, Jeon."

Jungkook chokes, and slams the door behind him.

Cute.

(A/N: IM SORRY FOR BEING SO SLOW i have been pretty busy with settling in and stuff im sorry so sorry so sosoosososo sorry. I LOVE YALL STAY SAFE. Btw, does anyone have any ships in Stray Kids, its for research purposes.)